Protection Detail
by BexTheLabRat
Summary: Pre-series fic focusing on the developing friendship between Gibbs and Tony. DiNozzo doesn't know how he'll survive when has to spend three days on protection duty with Gibbs, but his new team leader may just be the least of his worries.
1. Chapter 1

A/N. This is an idea that stems from a suggestion by vanishingp2000 that I continue from what was written in 'Carving his Path' and do a series of stories on how Gibbs and Tony develop their friendship pre-series. This one has a bit more plot than the previous two stories, but I'm still trying to focus on the way the boys see each other and how that starts to change. I've posted this now as knowing other people are reading makes me actually finish my stories instead of consigning them to the graveyard that is my laptop's 'unfinished' folder. Hope you enjoy. As always, reviews are most welcome, and suggestions may be incorporated into later chapters or stories. Thanks for reading.

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Probationary Special Agent Anthony "Tony" DiNozzo's eyes widened as he listened to his latest orders. Protection detail? With Gibbs? Only Gibbs? For three days? He wasn't sure he was going to survive it. Admittedly, he'd now been at NCIS for almost two months, and Gibbs had finally accepted him as a valuable part of the team, but three days? He wasn't sure anyone could survive three days with nobody but Gibbs for company.

'Friend of yours, boss?' he asked as he scanned the file. The protective witness, 75 year-old Mary O'Connell, had requested Gibbs specifically.

'I busted her son for murder, DiNozzo. What do you think?' DiNozzo took the opportunity to examine the document properly. The file detailed a six-month old investigation during which Gibbs had built a case against fifty year old Irishman Kevin O'Connell. He had murdered two marines, his partners in a drug-smuggling operation. The trial was due to begin in three days, and his mother had agreed to testify in exchange for being placed in protective custody.

'So why you?'

'Because she knows I haven't been bought,' his team leader answered impatiently. 'Let's move out.' He stormed off in the direction of the elevator, leaving the younger agent to frantically grab his gear and follow suit.

'O'Connell? Dat'd be an Oirish name, so it would,' Tony commented in his best approximation of an Irish accent as he climbed into the passenger seat of Gibbs' car. 'Well, as me dear departed father used to say…' his imitation was interrupted by a growl of warning from the driver's seat.

'DiNozzo!'

'Aw, come on boss! It's from…'

'The A-team. Yes DiNozzo, I know; and if you intend to continue using that accent for the next three days, Mrs O'Connell won't be the only one in need of protection. Are we clear?'

'Yes boss,' the younger man wasn't entirely convinced that Gibbs was joking. He attempted to look contrite. 'So….' He wasn't to be deterred, 'you've seen the A-team?' He hadn't seen any evidence of a television set on the only occasion he had thus far visited Gibbs' home.

'Put your seatbelt on, DiNozzo.' Gibbs obviously considered the matter closed. Tony quickly complied, and spent the early part of the journey attempting, despite Gibbs' erratic driving, to glean as much information from the case file as possible.

'You think she has an ulterior motive,' Tony declared as he snapped closed the case file and turned to look at his team leader. He noted the older man's brief look of surprise – clearly Gibbs hadn't expected him to make the connection so quickly. 'There are three cops on guard outside the safehouse,' he began to explain his deduction, 'That's more than enough to protect one little old woman. Her request explains why you have to be there, but I'm guessing you didn't bring me here for my charming personality. That leaves two options. Either you suspect these cops are on the take, in which case the old lady will probably be dead before we even arrive, or you think that you're walking into a trap, in which case you'll be needing backup before too long. I guess that means you trust me to watch your six,' he grinned broadly as he reached his conclusion.

'Right on all counts,' Gibbs shot back as he pulled over next to a nondescript-looking suburban house, 'except the last one.' Tony was sure he saw a hint of a smile at the corner of Gibbs' lips as he denied his newest agent the affirmation of confidence. 'Your charming personality is _exactly_ why I brought you. I need you to keep Mrs O'Connell distracted while I figure out what she's up to.' DiNozzo pouted in indignation.

'You want me to act as a diversion? How do you expect me to keep her entertained for long enough for you to poke around in all her stuff?'

'You tell me, DiNozzo. You're the one who claims to have an unparalleled talent with the opposite sex,' Gibbs shot back. Tony grinned.

'Uh, boss. I'm not sure a lot of that stuff is legal with someone of Mrs O'Connell's age.' The slap to the back of the head took him by surprise, as did the smirk of amusement on Gibbs' face. Tony had experienced neither before, but was secretly pleased by the older man's gesture of camaraderie. He was sure he'd never seen Gibbs smile at anyone other than Ducky and Abby before. He briefly wondered why the senior agent worked so hard to hide his sense of humour.

'Focus, DiNozzo. Never underestimate your enemy,' Gibbs warned as he opened the car door and identified himself to the officer guarding the front door. A few moments later, the two agents were inside the safehouse. Gibbs knocked on the door of the main living room before entering.

'Ah, Special Agent Gibbs,' Mrs O'Connell spoke with a lilting Irish accent. 'Come on in. And who is this delightful young man?'

Tony could have sworn he heard Gibbs snort as he introduced himself.

'You'll have some tea, now?' Mrs O'Connell continued, retreating to the kitchen as the two agents took a seat.

'Go on go on go on,' Tony muttered under his breath. At Gibbs' glare, he explained. 'Father Ted, it's a British….never mind,' he finished as Mrs O'Connell returned with a teapot and poured each of them a cup of tea. Gibbs left his untouched. Come to think of it, DiNozzo had rarely seen Gibbs consume anything other than his omnipresent cup of coffee. Perhaps the man was entirely caffeine-powered, he considered. He watched as Gibbs stood and walked silently towards the stairs. Time to put his charm to work, Tony decided. Taking a sip of tea and putting on what he hoped was a winning smile, he began to speak.

'So, Mrs O'Connell…'

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A/N More soon, I hope...


	2. Chapter 2

A/N. One more mini-chapter I've managed to get written. Hope you enjoy. That's all for tonight, folks. Alas, work begins in nine hours, so I should probably consider going to sleep.

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'You remind me of a young man I met in Dublin back in nineteen forty-nine,' Mary O'Connell was informing DiNozzo, as Gibbs took the opportunity to take a look around the old woman's room. The noise carried easily all the way up the stairs, and Gibbs knew he couldn't afford to make a sound. The senior agent grinned to himself. He had to admit, the younger man was quite the charmer when he wanted to be. In fact, Gibbs had to admit, once you took the trouble to see through his mask, there was something inherently likeable about the junior agent. Gibbs had never apologised for his behaviour towards the younger man during their first case together, and DiNozzo had never so much as hinted at the matter. Instead, they had somehow come to a silent agreement that Tony would allow his frat boy mask to slip a little around his team leader, and in return, Gibbs would be tolerant of a certain amount of 'goofing off,' and judge the younger man on merit. Truth be told, most of the time Gibbs was more amused than annoyed by the younger man's antics – not that he was prepared to admit it, of course. The senior agent had spent many years building up his 'hard ass' image, and he was damned if he was going to ruin it by developing a soft spot for DiNozzo. What intrigued Gibbs most of all, though, was the reason the younger man had felt the need to develop the mask in the first place. The kid was damned good at his job, but he never seemed to stay anywhere more than a couple of years. His newest agent was a mystery – one Gibbs intended to get to the bottom of.

Speaking of mysteries, however, the one in more immediate need of solving was the motive of Mary O'Connell when requesting Gibbs for protection duty. The fact that she had agreed to testify at all had caused alarm bells to ring in the senior agent's mind. The fact that she had specifically asked for Gibbs, the main witness for the prosecution, had only served to confirm his suspicions. The question was not whether, but how the elderly woman planned to ensure he never made it to the witness box.

Gibbs quickly sifted through the woman's overnight bag, but found nothing of interest. A search of her handbag, however, was more rewarding. Beneath the numerous accessories and gadgets, he located a .44 calibre revolver. Not the usual weapon of choice for an elderly woman looking to protect herself against muggers. The recoil alone was more likely to kill a fragile shooter than the bullet was to hit her intended target. A curious choice. Finding nothing else of interest, he made his way stealthily down the stairs, in time to see DiNozzo accept what was probably his fourth or fifth cup of tea. Gibbs moved to stand behind Mrs O'Connell. Clearly his absence had not been noticed at all. He nodded at DiNozzo in acknowledgment of a job well done, then moved towards the window, staring outwards , as though he had been there for some time.

A few minutes later, Mary O'Connell began to look around, as if finally realising that Gibbs hadn't spoken for some time. Catching sight of him at the edge of the room, she visibly relaxed.

'Special Agent Gibbs, you've not touched your tea,' she reprimanded. 'I must make a fresh pot.' The senior agent grimaced. Still, if DiNozzo could stomach several cups of the stuff, he was sure he could manage a few mouthfuls.

'This will do fine,' he insisted, draining the cup. 'DiNozzo, give me a hand with this tray,' he gestured towards the kitchen. As the junior agent entered, he shut the door behind them.

'So, what did you find?' the younger man wanted to know.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I really do appreciate it. To Azamiko – ok, an Irish mother testifying against her son may be pushing the boundaries of reality a little, but how else was I supposed to work in Tony's Mrs Doyle impression? :D Here's chapter 3. Hope you enjoy.

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DiNozzo's head was pounding – his headache had been getting progressively worse all day, until he was sure his boss was going to notice that something was wrong. Tony hated getting sick; he especially hated all the extra effort it took to convince everyone he was fine. Subconsciously, although he would never have admitted it even to himself, he had a deep-rooted fear of being replaced, and he wasn't going to give Gibbs, or anyone else, the slightest excuse to get rid of him. As a child he couldn't help but notice that after his mother's death, he was quickly replaced in his father's affections by a string of new wives, each one younger than the next. Even at college, when an accident ended any hope he might have had of a football career, there were any number of young hopefuls ready to take his place. When he had decided to go into law enforcement, DiNozzo had hoped he had put that part of his life behind him. He was damned good at his job – he had made sure of it. To prove that he had earned his job and his rank, he had worked longer and harder than anyone else, and his results had always been second to none. Despite this, few people were able to see through his frat boy persona, and he never seemed to earn anyone's respect, and only made superficial friendships. This was probably just as well, he considered – inevitably something always went wrong, and Tony found himself hightailing it to the next job, the next state, the next life; until he had finally ended up at NCIS. He sensed something about Gibbs in particular that made him think this time would be different, but he wasn't willing to test the hypothesis this early in their working relationship. As far as Gibbs would be concerned, he was on top of the world. Gibbs, however, had gone for takeout, and in the meantime, Tony could allow his mask to slip a little.

Tony was seated in a position that allowed him a full view of the only entrance to the small house, in case anyone should attempt to enter. Gibbs had convinced Tony that Mrs O'Connell was almost certainly not in danger, but with that came the knowledge that someone was almost certainly going to try to kill or capture the senior agent. While Gibbs was out of the way, however, DiNozzo could allow himself this small luxury. He gently massaged his nose and closed his eyes, thankful for the relief from the pain caused by the simple act of allowing the light to land on his retina. He tipped his head back, resting his head on the cool wall behind him, and allowed his other senses to take over.

It could never be said that a blind DiNozzo was a helpless one. Thanks to the amount of time he had spent alone in the dark during his childhood, Tony's hearing was almost as finely honed as if he were blind. It had always been easier to avoid being found when his father had returned home from a business deal gone wrong, or was in the middle of a raging row with wife number seven. The young DiNozzo had grown accustomed to hiding in various dark spaces, listening for the telltale signs that his father was no longer awake or had calmed down enough for Tony to be able to deal with. As a consequence of all these hours of training, DiNozzo had no problem picking out the sounds of Mrs O'Connell clattering around in the kitchen, or of Gibbs' car pulling up at the driveway and the older man making his way towards the house and in through the door. Despite this, he couldn't muster the energy to open his eyes and face his returning team leader.

'Sleeping on the job, DiNozzo?' Gibbs' accusing tone sounded as soon as the door had closed. Despite expecting his boss to speak, Tony had to force himself not to react.

'No, Boss,' he answered without bothering to open his eyes. 'Your car pulled up two minutes and fifteen seconds ago. The exhaust rattles, by the way. You should get that looked at. You got out of the car and spent one minute talking to the guy out front about the cops' shift change pattern, then you walked in and opened the door. You have a very distinctive marine stealth tread. Difficult to mistake. There was absolutely no way you could have been anyone else. Despite that, if you look at my hands, you'll find my sig pointing at your chest with the safety catch off. The only thing left to note is the smell. You brought Chinese. I'd guess beef with black bean sauce, egg fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and noodles.' He finally found the energy to open his eyes, look at his boss and plaster a grin across his face. 'How'd I do?'

'You missed the prawn crackers,' Gibbs stated before marching past into the main living area. Clearly no compliments on DiNozzo's detective skills would be forthcoming this evening. Tony forced himself to stand, grateful Gibbs wasn't there to see him steady himself against the wall, then lifted his head, forced a smile and followed the older man into the room. The senior agent had already started doling out the food. Tony grimaced inwardly, knowing that in order to keep up the façade, he was going to have to make the attempt to eat.

The moment the food entered his mouth, DiNozzo knew he had made a mistake. His stomach flipped, and he had to force himself not to gag. Narrowly managing to swallow his first mouthful of chicken, he dropped his fork back into the tray.

'Actually boss,' he confessed. 'I'm not really hungry.' He looked away, but not before seeing Gibbs' eyes narrow suspiciously.

'DiNozzo, you've eaten nothing since this morning. I've never seen you go more than three hours without a meal, not to mention all the snacks you eat in between.' Damn the man for being so observant. Then came the question the younger man had been dreading. 'Are you sick, DiNozzo?'

'I, uh…' he stammered. 'It's nothing, boss.' Damn. He hadn't meant to say that. What had he been thinking? There was no way Gibbs was going to let this drop now. Sure enough, the older man looked even more suspicious than he had before.

'What is, DiNozzo?'

'Nothing.' Tony responded quickly. 'Nothing. I'm fine.' If anything, Gibbs looked angry at his response.

'I don't know how things worked at Baltimore P.D.,' Gibbs fumed, 'but at NCIS we have rules. More importantly, _I_ have rules, and I'm going to start your education with rule number one. Never, ever, screw over your partner. We're together on this, and I need to know that you're here to back me up. If you're sick, I need to know. Are we clear?'

Tony flinched as much from the intensity of his boss's glare as from the harshness of his voice.

'It's just a headache boss, I swear,' he finally admitted. 'It's making me a little queasy but it's nothing I can't handle. Really!' he added for effect. He could almost feel his boss's eyes on his face, scrutinising him closely. Eventually, the older man nodded. Tony let out the breath he had been holding. He wasn't expecting Gibbs' next words, however.

'Well if you're not going to eat that, hit the sack. Upstairs, door on the right.' Tony glanced down at his watch. 9p.m. Anger rose up within him. He knew he shouldn't have admitted he was sick. Now Gibbs was going to have trouble trusting him to watch tv, never mind act as backup

'I'm not a child, Gibbs! I said I'm fine! Why can't you just…' he protested.

'Hey. I know you're not a child,' the older man replied evenly, 'but you are taking the graveyard shift; so if you want to stay awake all night, be my guest. Otherwise, I suggest you get some rest. I'll wake you at three.' Tony cringed. Jumping to conclusions like that had just made him look like an even bigger idiot in front of his boss. Still, for the moment Gibbs seemed not to have noticed. Reluctantly, he pushed himself up from the table and dragged himself up the stairs. He had to admit to himself as he collapsed on top of the crisp, clean sheets that this sleep thing wasn't such a bad idea after all.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N. Last one for tonight. Stupid work. I'll try to find time to update again before the weekend. Hope you enjoy.

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Gibbs sighed and sat down at the table. Mary O'Connell had finally headed upstairs, and he could hear DiNozzo tossing and turning in the room above. He had to admit, he had been impressed by the kid's performance over the last two months, but he couldn't understand his stubbornness. Ok, that was a lie, Gibbs admitted to himself. Truth be told, he'd just never met anyone who was half as stubborn as he was. DiNozzo was definitely giving him a run for his money in that respect. What confused him was what the younger agent was so damned stubborn about. Gibbs grimaced. He was thinking too much – he was starting to get DiNozzo's damned headache. Well, his new junior agent was an adult, and if said he was fine, he could damn well stand his watch; but that was still three hours away. In the meantime, Gibbs was the one who had to stay alert, and that was proving easier said than done. He had slept well the previous night, but he felt as though he hadn't slept in a month. Is this what one day without coffee felt like, or was it something more? Was he coming down with whatever DiNozzo had? He dismissed the idea. He didn't get sick. Ever. First thing in the morning, he was going to head out in search of coffee beans.

He stiffened as he heard a noise in the hallway and raised his sig to point at the door. Mrs O'Connell put a hand to her chest as she entered and moved away from the door. Even so, Gibbs noted the presence of her bag clutched tightly at her side.

'Dear Lord, Agent Gibbs, you nearly gave me a heart attack,' the elderly woman complained as she stepped further into the room. Gibbs severely doubted that was a case. He was equally convinced that Mary O'Connell used her 'charming old woman' persona in the same way DiNozzo maintained his frat boy image, though for much more sinister ends. Judging by the .44 handgun she was even now reaching for, the woman was nowhere near as fragile as she appeared. Gibbs was also certain that the woman was far more intelligent than she let on. Gibbs had long suspected that Kevin O'Connell lacked the brains to have developed a smuggling operation on the scale that he had. He now realised too late that the operation had indeed been a partnership. Kevin O'Connell had been the front man, but the brains behind the whole thing was standing right in front of him. What was it he'd been telling DiNozzo just this morning. Never underestimate your enemy? Well he'd certainly done that. He shook his head as his vision began to blur. There was only one explanation for this. Mrs O'Connell had somehow managed to poison them.

'What have you done to us? What was in that tea?' he demanded to know.

'Why agent Gibbs, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. There was nothing in that tea but lots of lovely vitamins. Are you sure you're all right? Perhaps you'd like to sit down?'

A sound by the door put an end to any reply Gibbs might have been about to make. He reached for his gun and spun quickly, immediately wishing he hadn't, as his vision blurred yet again. There was an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway. He had a pistol aimed directly at Gibbs' heart.

'Not the vitamin A overdose in the milk again, Mrs O?' the newcomer complained loudly. 'The last three guys you tried that on survived. I had to finish them off with a couple of bullets. Perhaps it's time you tried something else?'

'Well, I do have this, Peter.' Gibbs heard the elderly woman state from behind him. He had no doubt that she had just pulled out the enormous handgun. 'If you'd allow me the honours?'

'Jesus Mrs O,' the man exclaimed, stepping out of the line of fire. Gibbs' gun tracked him as he moved. 'Remind me never to get on your bad side. Be my guest, but be careful with the recoil.'

Gibbs listened as the gun was cocked, and the trigger pulled. As he had anticipated, the hammer clicked home on an empty chamber.

'Looking for these?' he asked, smirking as he steadied his gun with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other. His hand came out full of .44 magnum bullets.

Mary O'Connell, all pretences dropped, snarled in rage.

'Allow me,' the man Mrs O'Connell had referred to as Peter offered. Gibbs immediately dived to one side, firing as he did so. The movement prevented his immediate death – the bullet intended for his heart slammed into his side, and he fell to the floor gasping. Unfortunately, Peter too had moved. Gibbs' bullet had caused only a glancing wound, and the man was still on his feet. He moved towards Gibbs, preparing to take the final shot, but before he could do so, another shot rang out from the doorway. Peter's eyes widened in shock as a patch of red appeared over his heart. In seconds he was dead.

Despite his dishevelled appearance, Gibbs couldn't imagine a sight more welcome than that of DiNozzo standing in the doorway. The two locked eyes, and Gibbs acknowledged the action with a nod of thanks. DiNozzo had been as good as his word. Too late, Gibbs noticed a movement behind the younger agent. He could only watch as a second man slammed the butt of his gun into the back of DiNozzo's head. The junior agent crumpled to the floor.

'He may have called for backup; we have to leave, Gibbs heard Mary O'Connell order as his eyes slipped closed. 'Grab them both and put them in the van. Leave Peter. He's no use to us now.'

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To be continued… Probably tomorrow or Saturday.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N. Thanks for all the reviews, alerts, etc. so far. Apologies in advance that this chapter is so short. I didn't have much time to write this evening but I wanted to get something posted before the weekend. I have a pretty full schedule over the next few days, but I'll do my best to get some more written, I promise. In the meantime, enjoy.

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Tony bit back a groan as he slowly regained consciousness. If his head had been pounding before, it now felt like a herd of elephants was tap dancing on his skull. He had no idea where he was, or how long he had been unconscious, and until he was sure he wasn't being watched, he was going to move as little as possible. Slowly he cracked one eye open and began to examine his surroundings. He appeared to be in a small room with a locked steel door and a high window. The light streaming down onto his face clued him in that he'd been out of it for several hours at least. Without moving his head, there was very little else to be seen, but the sturdy door gave him confidence that his captors were no longer nearby. Time to sit up and take a look around.

The simple feat of lifting his head was easier said than done. The slightest movement intensified the pain a hundred fold. He had no idea how much of the pain was caused by the concussion that had undoubtedly resulted from the blow to his head, but right now he couldn't think straight. After several failed attempts, he managed to pull himself up onto his elbows, but this time couldn't suppress a moan at the agony his exertion had caused. His stomach rolled, and he was glad he had barely managed to eat anything over the past twenty-four hours. He had no desire to see any of his meals again. Nearly ten minutes later, he had managed to drag himself over to the nearest wall, and had pulled himself into a sitting position. Opening his eyes again, he looked around. To his left was the aforementioned steel door, and the window was now right above his head. To his right was a sink, a lavatory and a small bed. The blood in his veins ran ice cold as he finally noticed a figure slumped in the far corner. Gibbs.

Even through his blurry vision, Tony could make out the patch of wet, red blood that had soaked through the senior agent's shirt. Closing his eyes and forcing himself to listen, he could just about make out the older man's ragged breathing. Gibbs was alive, but there was no way of finding out how likely he was to stay that way without a closer examination, and that much movement was _really_ going to hurt. Tony sighed. They should have seen this coming. Hell, they had seen it coming, and had walked into it nonetheless. They had known this was a trap before they had even arrived at the safehouse, yet they had still managed to get outwitted and kidnapped by a frail seventy-five year old protective witness. They were never going to live this down, if they lived at all. He wondered what had happened to the police guard. There had been no warning before the two hired thugs had entered the house. The sentries must have been paid off. If DiNozzo ever found out who they were, there was really going to be trouble. First, though, he had to find a way out of this place.

'Boss?' he called out shakily, surprised at how weak his voice sounded. 'Gibbs, are you with me?' Not surprisingly, there was no response.

'Damn it, he muttered to himself. Tempted though he was to drop his head onto his knees and accept the inviting oblivion, he knew he needed to get to Gibbs. Slowly and painfully, he forced himself to crawl across the floor towards his team leader. By the time he reached Gibbs, he was shaking with exhaustion, but at least he had succeeded in achieving his first goal. Fighting to stay awake, he reached out to examine the older man's oozing wound. Before his hand could even make contact with the blood-stained shirt, his wrist was caught in a vice-like grip. As he raised his head to look at his boss's face, he saw a pair of unfocused blue eyes looking back at him.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N. Thanks again for all the reviews, alerts, etc. I'd have replied personally, but in-between work, nights out, etc., I thought you'd be more appreciative of another chapter instead. Here's another quick one before I head out to the pub for some six-nations watching this afternoon. More in a couple of days. Hope you all enjoy!

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Gibbs had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while when he became aware of the pained movements of his young colleague making his way across the floor. The younger man was breathing hard, and Gibbs had to wonder whether DiNozzo was even going to make it to this side of the room before he passed out. Gibbs forced himself to focus on staying awake and tried not to move. Ugh. Everything hurt. He felt like he'd just spent a week drinking bourbon and sleeping on the floor of his basement, and DiNozzo sounded even worse than he felt. If only Ducky were here. No, scratch that. He was extremely glad that Ducky was warm, safe and miles away, but it would have been good to have someone here who could clean up his gunshot wound, treat DiNozzo's concussion and give him some idea what the hell this vitamin A overdose was going to do to their bodies. He had to admit, the mission was thus far not exactly going to plan.

Do the protection detail, the director had said. Investigate. Find the missing link. Well, he had found it all right, but getting poisoned, shot and kidnapped had not exactly been part of his game plan. If only the director had given in and allowed him a little more backup. One man, the director had said. Gibbs had chosen DiNozzo. He knew there were plenty of far more experienced agents at NCIS, but Gibbs was beginning to learn that DiNozzo was one of the best he had ever worked with. A little smoothing out in some areas, and sharpening up in others, and DiNozzo was going to shape up to be a damned fine agent. If Gibbs didn't get him killed first, that was. Speaking of DiNozzo, the proximity of the loud, laboured breathing signalled that the younger man had finally reached him. Gibbs, forced himself to open his eyes, forcing back a wave of nausea as the room above swam around his head. He eventually got himself sufficiently under control to focus on DiNozzo. The junior agent looked even worse than he sounded. He was visibly trembling and gasping for breath, his face chalk-white, except for the blood from his head wound, which had trickled across his face. The contrast of the dark rust against his pale skin made him look even more like he had just attended his own post-mortem. Despite all this, he was determinedly reaching for Gibbs' torso. Gibbs reached out and took hold of Tony's wrist. The lack of strength in the normally athletic man's arms took him even more by surprise. In his current state, the younger man was likely to do more harm than good. Gibbs continued to stare at his dishevelled agent until Tony's eyes came to rest on his.

'I know…you don't normally… go this far… on a first date,' the junior agent gasped, incredibly still smiling despite the situation, 'but you have got to… let me… take a look at that.'

Gibbs snorted. He admitted again to himself that he was impressed by the younger man's spirit, and was again glad he had chosen DiNozzo as his partner on this mission. He pulled himself to a sitting position, ignoring the agonising pain shooting down his side. In doing so, he deliberately removed the wound from the younger agent's reach and came to rest on the floor beside him.

'No offence, DiNozzo,' he rasped, 'but I don't think you're in any state to be performing surgery. You're suffering from the effects of a vitamin A overdose and probably a pretty nasty concussion too.'

'Vitamin A, huh? That's good.' Gibbs let out a breath.

'Make that definitely concussed,' he corrected. 'I could have sworn you just said that was good.'

'Vitamin A,' Tony began, breathing more easily now he had stopped moving, 'is a fat soluble vitamin stored in the liver. When the liver's maximum storage capacity is reached, any excess vitamin A in the system causes toxic effects. Acute toxicity is manifested by headache, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, blurred vision, peeling skin and loss of muscular coordination. Irritability's another symptom, but with some people, well, it's difficult to tell the difference,' Tony smirked at the older man. ' It's uncommon in the general population but occurs more frequently in athletes who take too many dietary supplements. The good thing is, recommended treatment is to stop taking the vitamin A. Since we're not dead yet, chances are the symptoms will go away on their own in the next forty-eight hours, so long as we avoid any more vitamin A intake. Given that the only thing we have access to right now is water, I'm guessing that won't be a problem. So long as we don't drink any more of evil Mrs Doyle's special brew, we should be absolutely fine. Well, apart from the fact that you have a hole in your side, and I have the entire cast of Fame performing on my head, that is. Fine is a relative thing.'

Gibbs could only stare at his junior agent, who grinned back.

'Phys-Ed major, remember?' he was reminded. Gibbs closed his eyes.

'I thought for a moment that you'd been spending far too much time with Ducky. Remind me again what the symptoms of concussion are?'

'Um…headache, nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, blurred vision…uh, pretty much the same, boss…' Gibbs groaned. He would have no way of ascertaining exactly how bad his junior agent's head injuries were. He was going to have to watch him very closely from now on. It was time for Gibbs to take charge.

'DiNozzo, let me take a look at your head,' he ordered. The younger man winced.

'I'd rather you didn't boss. You might jump to the wrong conclusions and end up getting me sectioned.' Gibbs rolled his eyes, wincing when even that tiny action caused the pain in his side to re-ignite.

'That's an order, DiNozzo!' he growled.

'Hmmm, irritability…' DiNozzo muttered, turning to allow his boss access to the back of his head. Had he not been injured, Gibbs would have been sorely tempted to repeat the earlier headslap. He examined the wound as gently as he could, but even so, he could hear the pain in DiNozzo's voice as he attempted to provide a distraction.

'Y'know, there's got to be an A-team episode that covers this. There's the one where BA and Hannibal get poisoned by the milk, but I'm not really seeing myself in the BA role. There's the one where Murdock gets shot, but in that episode he doesn't ignore his wound and set about giving orders to the rest of the team, and anyway, you'd be no good as Murdock – you'd have to be Hannibal. I see myself more along the lines of Faceman, with a little of Murdock thrown in for good measure, but…ouch!!' Tony flinched away as Gibbs' hand came to rest on the point of the gun's impact.

'Damn,' Gibbs muttered. 'Hold still Tony,' he ordered, his tone betraying the concern he refused to voice, 'I've got to check.' He ran his fingers slowly over the wound and pushed gently. He could see the effort it was taking the younger man not to cry out as he did so. 'Damn,' he muttered again. It was impossible to be sure with the level of swelling, but Gibbs thought he could feel the bone moving beneath his fingers. In all probability, Tony's skull had been fractured by the earlier blow. How severely, and how it was likely to affect him, only time would tell. They needed to get out of here as soon as possible, but with both of them incapacitated, that was going to be easier said than done. What he needed, was a plan…


	7. Chapter 7

A/N. Thanks again for all the great reviews for this chapter. I'm also stunned by the number of people who have this story on alert. Eeek! Hope it lives up to expectations. Here's Chapter 7, featuring Gibbs' escape plan, which I confess is probably based on several things I saw on TV in the '80s or '90s. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy. On to the story…

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Tony opened his eyes with a start as the room echoed with a loud clanging noise. He didn't even remember falling asleep, but he must have been out of it for a while. That probably wasn't good, he thought belatedly. In the meantime, Gibbs had apparently been busy. Tony lifted his hand to the side of his head, surprised to find that it had been bandaged while he was unconscious, using what felt like a piece of Gibbs' jacket. Clearly the senior agent had been to marine triage school at some point in his career, but surely he wasn't some kind of stealth bandaging ninja? Tony should have been at least aware of the procedure. He frowned. The problem with having a head injury, he considered, was that he couldn't think straight for long enough to figure out how much his judgement had been affected. Catch 22. If there was one thing Tony hated more than anything else, it was the feeling of complete helplessness and reliance on another human being. He felt a little like that now. If he couldn't even sit on the floor for a few hours without passing out, he wasn't going to be much use in helping Gibbs escape.

Speaking of Gibbs, the older man had appeared in front of him, and was looking at him now, eyeing him with a concern that he hoped wasn't justified.

'How long was I out?' he asked to break the silence.

'Five, maybe six hours,' the senior agent replied.

'Must have fallen asleep.' Gibbs snorted.

'Asleep. Right. How's the head?' He could have sworn Gibbs sounded relieved. Tony thought about it for a moment.

'Head hurts like hell,' he admitted a moment later, 'but at least the room's stopped spinning.' He guessed that his vitamin A levels were finally getting back to normal – it had been over a day since they had arrived at the safehouse and made the mistake of drinking the spiked tea. He was guessing the effects on Gibbs had worn off completely, but the older man still had a gunshot wound to contend with. Examining his team leader closely, he noticed that Gibbs had finally made the attempt to bandage his wound. Even so, his blood was already seeping through the makeshift strapping, and the older man was looking decidedly grey. Despite this, Tony couldn't help but notice a slight flushing in the senior agent's cheeks – a sure sign of fever. He was willing to bet that Gibbs' wound had become infected, and that the older man knew it. Still, it didn't appear that Gibbs had any intention of acknowledging this in conversation.

'Good,' his team leader was saying. 'Do you think you could handle some water before we get out of here?' Tony did a double-take. Water sounded great, but Gibbs had to be sicker than he thought if he imagined they could just walk out of the door. He looked around, but the steel door was still firmly shut, and the window too small to escape through, even if they had mustered the strength to reach it.

'Uh, boss. I don't think…' Gibbs, for once, jumped to the wrong conclusion.

'Look DiNozzo, I know it's a risk moving you without fully evaluating your head injury, but I can't see any other choice. The longer we stay here, the longer our wounds go untreated, and the greater the chance these guys will come in and kill us. I want to face them now, on my terms. Here, drink this. ' Tony accepted the water and sipped slowly, wondering briefly if he had woken up in the twilight zone. Ordinarily he would have great faith in Gibbs' ability to work miracles, but the older man was sick, injured and locked in a room. Tony really didn't see how he could get them out of this one.

'Ok, but how…?' Gibbs grinned.

'Rule number nine, DiNozzo. Never go anywhere without a knife.' He brandished a swiss army knife at the junior agent. Tony didn't even want to think about where the older man had been hiding the object – he was sure they had been thoroughly searched before they had been dumped here. All of his own pockets had been emptied.

'You're going to stab your way out?' Tony asked, intrigued.

'Not exactly,' the senior agent was far from forthcoming. 'Can you stand? It's about to get damp in here.' Tony staggered to his feet. He couldn't help but question the wisdom of whatever Gibbs was about to do. He was pretty sure neither he nor the senior agent were up to whatever it was the older man was planning. Still, he obeyed Gibbs' order to stand in the corner of the room and keep out of the way – there really wasn't a sensible alternative, and Gibbs was right; neither of them would have much chance if they waited any longer. He watched in fascination as the older man loosened one final bolt on the pipe supplying water to the toilet bowl. A few seconds later, a torrent of water began to flood into the room.

'Ok, now I want to know,' Tony complained loudly.

'Watch,' was Gibbs's only response, 'but keep away from the door, and you might want to put your fingers in your ears.'

Tony was even more fascinated now. The water spread across the room, and eventually began seeping under the door. Within minutes there was a shout from outside, followed by the sound of a key being placed in the lock. Gibbs moved to the hinge side of the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door started to open. Instead of swinging open as expected, however, the door fell to the ground with a crash. Now Tony understood. Gibbs had used the swiss army knife to separate the hinges from the wall, and as their guards looked on in shock, the ex-marine floored one unsuspecting man with a single punch. The second took several blows, but nonetheless, the whole thing was over in seconds. Gibbs paused to liberate the men's weapons and cell phones before re-entering the cell, lifting Tony over his shoulder and making a run for it. Arriving outside, he used one of the guns to smash the window of the van parked outside. After depositing DiNozzo in the passenger seat, he again used the knife to hotwire the engine. The time from the door hitting the floor to the van's engine starting was in total less than two minutes. Tony was stunned – he wouldn't have thought it possible outside of a Rambo movie.

'Call Abby,' the older man barked, handing over a cell phone. Tony was only too happy to comply. Within moments Abby's worried voice was transmitting loudly over the speaker.

'Tony? Where are you. I've been so worried. The director's out of his mind with worry. Is Gibbs with you? Are you guys ok?'

'Abby, we can talk about it later,' he promised the frantic scientist. 'Right now I need you to triangulate this cell and get us some backup. Gibbs has been shot and I…' he paused as the van lurched to the left. He turned to see Gibbs slumped over the steering wheel. 'Gibbs?' There was no response from the older man. The escape had clearly taken all the senior agent's remaining strength, and he had finally lost the battle to remain conscious. All things considered, Tony was surprised he had hung on this long, but he had to question the man's timing. Another hour and they would have been back in civilisation, probably. Tony actually had no idea where they were, or even how long it had taken them to get there. They could be hours away from NCIS for all he knew.

'Crap! Abby, just find us,' he yelled, dropping the phone but leaving the line open. 'He grabbed for the wheel. Gibbs' foot was jammed onto the accelerator and it was all Tony could do to keep them on the road. For several long minutes, Tony fought to keep control, but they were approaching a sharp bend, and they were travelling far too fast. The van left the road and hurtled into what looked like some kind of orchard. DiNozzo watched in fascinated horror as the van, in apparent slow motion, slammed into a tree and began to crumple. The violence of the impact was too much for his already-injured skull, and he once again felt himself slipping away.

'Guys? Guys? What happened? Are you ok?' Abby's voice screamed out from the miraculously undamaged cell phone, but there was nobody awake to hear her cries.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N. I know I keep on saying this, but thanks again for all the fab reviews – it really does make it worth sharing my mad ideas. I shall reward you with another chapter. ;-) The only question is, how long can the author survive on a diet of chocolate, celery and beer? No, that's not it. I know - what evilness have I found to inflict on our boys now? :D Only one way to find out. Enjoy…

---

Gibbs regained consciousness for the second time that day and groaned. He was getting a definite sense of _déjà vu_, but what the hell had happened this time? The last thing he remembered was knocking out those two guys and getting into the van. His head had been swimming, and he had been desperately trying not to…damn. He had. He'd passed out. Talk about timing! He'd been doing seventy at least – trying to put as much distance as possible between himself and the guys he'd just taken out. DiNozzo had been on the phone to Abby, then nothing. He guessed DiNozzo had done his best to keep them on the road, but he knew from first hand experience how difficult it was to steer with someone lying on the wheel. Damn! Damn! Damn! He moved his head, slowly at first – his neck appeared intact at least. Crashed van. Check. Tree through driver's side window. Check. Make that trees. And branches. One particularly sharp branch had speared him in the thigh. He supposed he should be grateful it had hit the muscle rather than the femoral artery. He'd have bled to death long before now if that had been the case. He moved the rest of his limbs one by one. Aside from the aforementioned branch, his left shoulder felt dislocated. All in all, it could be worse. His side of the van had taken most of the impact – he hoped that meant DiNozzo was relatively intact. He looked to his right. The younger man was upright in his seat, eyes closed. He could see the younger man's chest moving with each breath. He was alive, but Gibbs couldn't tell whether he was conscious. He called out tentatively.

'Hey DiNozzo? Tony? You with me?'

'Y'know, boss,' came the response. 'I knew this mission was going to get me killed. I figured that after a couple of days in a house together maybe you'd throttle me, maybe shoot me in the head to put me out of my misery. This though, this is creative. I never in a million years thought I could die from the combined effects of poisoned tea, a blow to the head and a car crash. I have to wonder. What's next? A meteor shower? Alien invasion?'

Gibbs snorted. Even after the events of the last thirty-six hours, the kid still hasn't lost his sense of humour. Gibbs knew DiNozzo was scared – hell, they were badly injured, their kidnappers could turn up at any minute and they had no idea whether backup was three minutes or three hours away. Gibbs had served in war zones, and he was scared. He'd been in situations like this many times, but that didn't stop the fear. The key was not to allow the fear to cloud your judgement. There had been no trace of fear in DiNozzo's voice. In fact, Gibbs had been continually impressed by the way his newest agent was handling himself. Despite his initial reservations, he had no doubt that DiNozzo had definitely been the right man for his team. Blackadder wasn't half the agent this kid was, and once you got used to him, Tony was a hell of a lot easier to get along with.

'Hey DiNozzo, we need to get out of here. Are you hurt?'

'Legs and arms feel ok,' DiNozzo replied. Ribs too. Neck's a little stiff. Smacked my head on the dash on impact, but at this point, how much more damage can it do?'

Gibbs grimaced. Another blow to the head so soon after a brain injury was no laughing matter, but at least the junior agent appeared to be making sense. A small mercy.

'I'm going to need some help here,' he admitted. 'I need to you hold this branch still while I cut through it.' He pulled out his knife with his intact right arm. Tony turned and moved his arms in Gibbs' direction, but appeared to be having trouble getting hold of the branch. He remembered Tony mentioning that lack of muscular coordination was a symptom of their initial poisoning. Gibbs hoped that was all it was. He took hold of the younger man's wrist and guided it to the correct position. 'Hold tight,' he instructed. This is going to hurt me a hell of a lot more than it hurts you.

He sawed slowly through the branch, each vibration causing agonising pain to shoot through his leg, but he knew that to remove the branch completely would cause more blood loss he couldn't afford. He almost passed out again, but his determination won through, and after fifteen minutes, his leg was finally free.

'We'll get out your side,' he instructed. He watched as the younger man climbed out of the van and stood, staring vacantly into the distance. There was definitely something odd about his demeanour. Still, Gibbs could deal with that later. He crawled across the van, pausing only to grab the cell phone from the floor before climbing out to stand beside DiNozzo. His legs threatened to collapse there and then, but he willed himself to remain standing.

'We can do this,' he muttered, more to himself than to DiNozzo. He could see what he guessed was some kind of apple storage shed in the distance. They would head for that. If the worst happened, at least they would have food, and the apples could be good for stopping a few bullets. Once they were a little safer, he could call Abby and get a progress update on their backup. He slung DiNozzo's arm over his shoulder, and the two stumbled, supporting each other, towards their target. They fell several times, but each time they forced themselves to stand up and keep going. Eventually, they were rewarded.

Gibbs sighed as they sank onto the floor next to a huge pile of apples. He grabbed one and handed it to DiNozzo, who sucked thirstily at the juicy fruit. It had only been a few hours since they had topped up with water, but both of them were very dehydrated. Drugging and blood injury could do that to a man, he thought angrily. Before he indulged himself, however, he had a phone call to make. It took only a few seconds to get through to Abby.

'Gibbs! What happened? I was so worried! Is Tony ok?' came the familiar voice over the speaker.

'Calm down Abby,' I need an update on our backup,' the senior agent didn't have time to indulge the scientist.

'You're in the middle of nowhere, Gibbs. We sent out a team a couple of hours ago, but it'll take them a while to reach you. They should be there in fifteen, twenty minutes.'

'Uh Gibbs, I hear something,' Tony interrupted. The older man hadn't heard a thing, but he hadn't failed to notice the younger man's bat-like hearing back at the safehouse. Sure enough, when he glanced out through a gap between two boards, he saw three vans approaching. They were of the same design as the one he had 'borrowed' earlier.

'Tell them to step on it Abs, or they're not going to have anyone left to rescue.' He snapped the phone shut, ignoring the cry of 'Gibbs! Wait!' as he did so.

'How many?' DiNozzo asked.

'Three vans. Maybe six men if we're lucky. Could be as many as thirty.' he admitted. Until they exited the van, there was no way of telling. 'Backup's another twenty minutes away.' He suddenly remembered the two guns he had removed from their kidnappers – they were still stuffed down his socks where he had put them while he had carried DiNozzo to the van. 'Here,' he called, throwing one of the weapons towards the younger man. It hit him in the stomach.

'Ouch, you could warn a guy,' Tony complained, picking up the gun and making his way to where Gibbs was standing.

'I figured seeing the gun fly towards you would be all the warning you'd need,' Gibbs pointed out. 'I'll send you a memo next time.'

C'mon Gibbs, cut me some slack. It's too damn dark in here to see much of anything,' the younger man complained. Gibbs looked at his agent for a moment, then up at the sunlight streaming through the holes in the roof. Finally, he turned back to his agent, lifted his hand and waved it in front of DiNozzo's face.

'You can't see that?' he asked.

'I've already told you, Gibbs. It's too dark to make out more than a couple of shadows.' Gibbs shook his head.

'You couldn't have mentioned this?' he asked incredulously.

'Well Gibbs,' the younger man began sarcastically, 'I figured the complete absence of light would…' the younger man paused. 'It's too hot to be the middle of the night. It's not dark, is it?'

'No,' Gibbs confirmed.

'Crap.'

That was one word for it, Gibbs thought.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N. Thanks yet again for all the fantastic comments – I've had more comments for this than any other NCIS story, so thanks. I've managed to get another chapter written, but I'm going away for the weekend, so no updates tomorrow. If you ask really nicely, I might make a start on the next chapter on Sunday night. ;-). Enjoy! (Please don't send the bad guys after me for finishing where I did!)

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Tony was worried. The recent discovery of his blindness had given the shadows around him a new, more ominous feel, but that wasn't what worried him most. Nor was it the twelve heavily-armed men currently converging on their position. Though he had drawn a blank so far, he knew there had to be a way of dealing with them, and he was confident that inspiration would strike when he most needed it; _which was about now_, he reminded his subconscious. No, what worried him most was Gibbs. Tony had been looking at things, if he'd pardon himself the terrible pun, in completely the wrong way. Not being able to see had deprived him of vital information, and now he had to reconsider the evidence. Gibbs had been unconscious when Tony had awoken after the crash. That in itself had been no great surprise – Gibbs had been unconscious before the crash. Tony had thought that this might be have been a temporary response to the older man's over-exertion during their escape, but now the younger agent had to think again. The pain in his head had been so bad after the crash that he had completely forgotten how badly hurt Gibbs was. The senior agent had already lost enough blood to render the average human too weak to stand, and Tony hadn't forgotten the early indications of fever he had seen in the older man several hours ago. The whole 'Rambo thing' and a high speed crash would have done nothing to improve his team leader's condition. He remembered how Gibbs had favoured his left leg, and avoided any contact in his left shoulder. Gibbs had evidently acquired more injuries in the accident, and Tony hadn't noticed. He mentally kicked himself for his stupidity. Come to think of it, as they'd stumbled towards this place, Gibbs had been radiating heat – a sure sign that his fever had grown. Then there was the stumbling itself. Now that Tony understood that they hadn't been navigating unknown territory in the dark, the falls, not to mention the senior agent's complete failure to notice that his companion had gone blind, told Tony everything he needed to know about Gibbs' state of health. The older man hadn't lied – he hadn't said anything at all, which, as DiNozzo was rapidly learning, was a key Gibbs avoidance technique. He cursed himself again for being such an idiot. He should have picked up on this earlier. Well, there was no point worrying about things that had already happened. What Tony should be worrying about now was how one blind man and one man who barely had the strength to stay conscious were going to hold off twelve fit, armed men for over a quarter of an hour.

'So, twenty minutes, huh? I don't suppose there happen to be thirty more identical sheds around that these guys might feel the need to search instead of ours?' Gibbs chuckled softly.

'Fraid not…'

'No back door out of this place?'

'Nope.'

'At least, not yet…' Tony was sure he had the beginnings of a plan. 'Do you still have that knife?'

'That, another gun, a cell phone and a lighter I found in the van. What are you thinking?'_ I'm thinking that lighter puts the finishing touches to my plan, _DiNozzo thought to himself.

'I'm thinking we use the knife to take out a few nails from the boards in the back wall so that they'll slide open from the bottom,' he replied. Just enough so that we can slide out behind the shed where they won't see us.'

'DiNozzo, I hate to break it to you,' Gibbs began, 'but figuring out that we're not in here, hunting us down and killing us is not going to take them twenty minutes.' Tony grinned.

'Ah, but that's where the most cunning part of the plan kicks in. The diversion. I wouldn't say it's quite up to Hannibal Smith standard, but it'll give us a chance.' Tony could almost hear the thought process as Gibbs considered his plan.

'Ok, I'm listening.'

'You're going to have to do the thing with the boards, because I'd probably manage to slice off my fingers, so I'll have to provide the diversion. Firstly I'm going to pile up all the dry straw from the floor in front of the door, then I'm going to wait until they head this way and lay down covering fire. When they get close, I'm going to set fire to the straw. You keep the back door open, and we'll get as far away as we can. We'll keep the second gun and the cell phone for plan B.'

'Tony, this is nuts! You can't see!'

'Like I said, not a great plan,' he reiterated. 'You got a better one?'

'No,' Gibbs eventually admitted, 'and they're examining the van. It won't take them long to figure out we headed this way. We've got five minutes at best.'

'We only need to hold them off for twenty,' Tony was determined. 'We can do this, Gibbs.' He grabbed an armful of straw, made his way to the wall and felt his way to the doorway. He repeated the action several times until there was a good-sized pile of straw blocking the doorway. He lay down behind it, his gun pointing outwards towards the approaching men. He could hear Gibbs behind him working frantically with the knife, grunting with pain as he did so. Tony was now even more certain that Gibbs was carrying unmentioned injuries.

'Good to go, DiNozzo,' the shout came from behind him. Gibbs was ready. It had been seven minutes since they had last spoken to Abby. Their survival now would be all down to Tony's timing. He felt a warmth beside him and realised that the senior agent had come to join the fight.

'Boss,' he acknowledged. 'I don't think this was part of the plan.'

'Figured you could use a pair of eyes,' the older man explained. 'Besides, you'd forgotten the lighter,' he placed the item in the junior agent's hand.

'Thanks,' Tony accepted. He had to admit, having at least one man who could see the bad guys coming was definitely an advantage.

'Here they come,' Gibbs said a few minutes later. A few moments later, he fired. 'One down,' he commented. 'The rest are backing off.'

'How long?' Tony asked.

'Nine more minutes, if Abby's guess was accurate.'

'How long until they come back?'

'A minute, if we're lucky. They'll be more cautious the second time around. Won't make themselves quite as easy a target.' Tony sighed. These guys weren't going to make it easy.

Thirty seconds later, Tony heard the first shot. He returned fire, and for a few minutes, he and Gibbs took it in turns to fire back. Eventually, the moment came when he was out of bullets. Gibbs had stopped firing a few seconds before.

'I'm out, let's do it,' he called, climbing to his feet. Gibbs hadn't moved.

'I can't get up, Tony. Leave me,' the older man ordered.

'Like hell,' he muttered. Even in the days when Gibbs had been living up to his second b, there was no way Tony would have left him behind. Now that Gibbs had saved his ass, he owed him a debt that he would somehow attempt to repay. Doing his best not to damage the injured man further, he pulled Gibbs to his feet. Stopping only to light the straw in his wake, he ran for the back wall, dragging his team leader along with him. He frantically ran his hand along the boards, attempting to find the ones that Gibbs had loosened. Just as he thought he was about to collapse from smoke inhalation, his hand landed on a moving board. Gasping for breath, he virtually fell out of the apple shed. He still had hold of Gibbs, and the older man landed on top of him. He paused to catch his breath only for a moment, then dragged his boss away from the burning structure.

For a moment he thought that the sirens going off loudly in his ears were the product of his over-tired imagination, but after a few moments, realisation kicked in. They were saved! The rescue team were early! He began to laugh hysterically. Then came the sounds of vans pulling away as their assailants attempted to escape.

'That was a close one, huh boss?' he commented. There was no response. Come to think of it, Gibbs hadn't said anything for some time. He must have passed out again. Tony felt his way across the ground to where he had deposited the team leader, and shook the man gently. 'Hey boss, wake up. Cavalry's here.' Still no response. Tony rested a hand on his shoulder. 'Ambulance will be here in a minute, boss. They'll soon get you patched up.' There was not so much as a movement from the senior agent. It was then that reality finally dawned on DiNozzo. Gibbs wasn't breathing.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to write the next chapter – my work and social life appear to be getting out of hand again, but the story's nearly-ish finished, so hopefully I won't leave you hanging again. Thanks again for all the reviews. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy…

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Gibbs had known even before he started that further exertion would be a bad idea. His heart was pounding in a desperate attempt to pump what was left of his blood around his damaged body and he was verging on unconsciousness. Nonetheless, Tony had needed him to loosen the boards, and if the junior agent was giving his all, then Gibbs would give no less than his best. His left arm was virtually useless, and every tiny movement was agony, but somehow he succeeded, and moved to help DiNozzo, knowing as he did so that he would never have the strength to escape. He would slow down their assailants as much as possible to give the younger man a chance, he decided. He should have known better – DiNozzo exhibited none of the personality traits of a man who would sacrifice another to save himself, and sure enough, when the time came, Gibbs found himself being dragged out through the back of the barn. The smoke was thick around them and he could feel his body, which had already been struggling to take in enough oxygen, begin to give up. The world went black, and the persistent pounding stopped. He was faintly aware of DiNozzo's voice insisting, demanding, that he do something, but it was beyond his ability to comply. The last thing he heard was DiNozzo's frantic shouting.

'Boss, don't make me have to kiss you. Please boss, one little breath. You can do it.'

But he couldn't, and soon, he was aware of nothing.

---

When he began to reawaken, it was to the sensation of fire coursing through his body. Was he dead? Was this what hell felt like? No, that couldn't be it. He was hot – unbelievably so, but he was no longer in agony. There was a noise – an insistent, infuriating beeping, and his left arm felt like it had been restrained. He reached for it with his right hand, but he was prevented from doing so.

'Gibbs, no. That's there to help you.'

Was that Abby? Abby had tied him up? No, that couldn't be right. Everything was hazy. He couldn't think straight – it was too damned hot. He needed to get out of here; find Tony. Tony! Damn – the bad guys had DiNozzo. If Abby was here, maybe the bad guys had Abby too. He had to do something. He struggled to get up. This time a cool hand came to rest on his cheek.

'Gibbs, calm down. It's okay, you're safe.'

Didn't she get it? He didn't care about that. His first responsibility was his team, and he had let Tony down. They had been surrounded by armed men and he had – what? Passed out? It hadn't felt like that. Died? If this wasn't hell, then evidently not. Either way, he had abandoned DiNozzo to his fate, and that was unacceptable. He had to go back. He had to make Abby understand.

'Tony…' he managed to murmur. Finally, Abby seemed to understand.

'Tony's safe too. Ducky's with him.' Gibbs allowed himself to relax. He knew there was something else he needed to say, but it didn't seem important any more. His team was safe. He allowed himself to drift.

---

He was sure it was many hours later when a familiar voice cut through the fog floating around where he was convinced his mind had once been. It seemed hesitant.

'Hey Boss, I don't know whether you can hear me – Abby says you've been pretty much out of it since you got here. I can't stay long – Abby sprung me from my room downstairs, but they're bound to notice I'm gone sooner or later. I just wanted to…uh, see how you were doin. Thought you might want to know what's going on, too.'

Gibbs couldn't help smiling to himself. It seemed the younger man had instinctively grasped Gibbs' need for information and had come to brief him. Despite this, and despite being barely conscious, he could also sense that something was off. Something was really bothering the younger agent, and he had every intention of finding out what. It didn't take as much effort as he might have thought.

'You actually died. Did you know that? When we finally go out of that shed I was so relieved, and when I realised those sirens weren't a figment of my imagination, I was ecstatic. I was so busy laughing that I didn't even notice your heart had stopped. What kind of crappy partner does that make me? You were dead and I was laughing! Then when I did notice, I freaked. I shouted at you when I should have started CPR. By the time I finally did, well, it could have been too late.'

If he had been able, Gibbs would have reached up and gently slapped his hand across the back of DiNozzo's head. He couldn't have faulted the younger man's behaviour if he'd tried, which was more than he could say for his own. Despite this, now it was all over, the junior agent seemed insistent on taking the blame. Well, better a man who second-guessed himself after the fact than one who didn't dare make a move for fear of making a wrong one. A few lessons from Gibbs would soon provide DiNozzo with a cure of sorts, or at least the sense to know when he had made the right call. The young man was already shaping up to be the best Gibbs had ever worked with, and the sooner he learned to trust his gut when his life didn't depend on it, the better he would be.

'The paramedics told me that it wouldn't have mattered anyway if they hadn't shown up when they did. They said you'd lost so much blood that you should have been dead hours before. They didn't believe me when I told them about that Rambo stunt you pulled – said it should have been impossible. Guess you really are a hard-ass, huh? Even then, if Abby hadn't told them you'd been shot and made sure they had blood in the ambulance, you wouldn't have reached the hospital alive. Anyway, you don't want to hear all the details. The point is, they patched you up, and they think they've got the infection from your bullet wound under control – you should have told me about that, by the way. You're going to need physio on that shoulder, and you'll be on desk duty for a while, but you're going to be okay. I know Abby probably told you all this already, but I wanted to…' he tailed off, before continuing along a completely different thread. 'They've postponed Kevin O'Connell's trial until you can testify, and they caught all the guys who were shooting at us, but the old woman's nowhere to be found. Their best guess is that she used a false passport and caught a plane back to Ireland.'

Gibbs hadn't failed to notice that DiNozzo hadn't so much as attempted to discuss his own condition. Evidently he thought that coming to visit while Gibbs was unconscious would allow him to avoid awkward questions. Well, he was about to find out he was wrong. Gibbs allowed himself to take one last breath before forcing his eyes open. He didn't like what he saw. The young agent looked tired and gaunt, and his forehead was wrinkled with worry. His gaze was the same blank one that Gibbs had seen back in the barn, and his pupils were unresponsive. Tony's eyesight had clearly not returned while Gibbs had been unconscious. Gibbs reached out and laid his good hand on DiNozzo's arm, holding firm as the junior agent flinched.

'You did good, DiNozzo,' he assured the worried young man.

'You heard all that?'

'I heard.' He decided it was time to push for the answers DiNozzo was more reluctant to give him. 'What did they say about your head injury?' The younger man sighed.

'Depressed skull fracture,' he admitted. 'They can't see any obvious signs of brain injury, but there's a lot of swelling. They think that's what's causing the blindness – increased pressure on the optic nerve. They won't know if there's been any permanent damage until the swelling goes down.'

'And if there has?' Gibbs asked, dreading the answer.

'Then my sight might not come back,' DiNozzo confirmed. Gibbs tightened his grip on Tony's arm. He couldn't help but pick up on the carefully hidden hint of panic in the junior agent's voice. He felt he had to offer some kind of reassurance.

'You'll be okay, DiNozzo.'

'You can't know that, Boss.' Gibbs sighed.

'Do you trust me, DiNozzo?'

'Yeah, Boss. I trust you.'

'Then listen to me. You're one of the toughest people I know, and I've known a lot of tough people. You are going to be fine. Do you hear me?'

'I hear ya, Boss.' Gibbs gave the young man's arm one last squeeze before he let go, hoping that DiNozzo would not end up making a liar of him.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N. Thanks again for all the reviews, alerts, etc. They've definitely encouraged me to get off my backside and write another chapter when I've been seriously thinking about sleeping instead. I'm off to the parents' today for a long weekend, but the laptop will be joining me and they do have broadband, so I'll have a go at writing something. Until then, here's a short chapter to keep you entertained. Enjoy…

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Tony wasn't sure how he was meant to feel about anything that was going on. When they'd arrived at the hospital, he'd been taken straight to x-ray, then told that his skull fracture wasn't severe enough to require surgery, which was good. They thought the swelling had been caused by his brain flopping around in his skull as his head had hit the dash. Again, that was supposedly good – if the swelling had been caused by the fracture itself, he would have been in a hell of a lot more trouble. They had given him drugs that would supposedly help, but again there was probably no need for surgery. All the tests pointed to no permanent damage. None of this, however, in any way changed the fact that his head hurt more than anything he'd experienced in his life; and he still hadn't been able to see, which had frightened him more than he was prepared to admit. When he added that to the knowledge that Gibbs had still been in a critical condition, he hadn't been a great person to be around. He had snapped at the nurses, as a result of which his reputation among them was not the one he usually earned. He had yelled at Ducky too, but the older man had simply taken the barrage as an indication of undue stress, and had calmly suggested that rest and patience may be the only answer. Tony hadn't wanted to hear it, and as soon as he'd found out that Gibbs was out of danger, he'd blackmailed Abby into stealing a wheelchair and taking him visiting.

The conversation with Gibbs had helped a little. It had been a great weight off his shoulders to find out that the senior agent would fully recover, and an even bigger one to find that the older man didn't blame him for his near-death experience. If he had been thinking rationally, Tony would have known that none of this could possibly be his fault, but the pounding in his head seemed to add a pessimistic tone to his every thought. When he had been returned to his room by an irate nurse who had caught him at Gibbs' bedside, Ducky had been waiting for him, with a word of remonstration. A few hours later, Abby had replaced the medical examiner on 'Tony-watch', and was now curled up at the foot of his bed.

In one way, Tony was grateful for the forensic scientist's presence – it was good to know that people cared enough to bother, but a part of him just wanted her to go away so he could curl up and scream in pain. It was taking a lot of effort to hide the fact from Abby, and he still wasn't bothering to hide his temper from the nurses, who were now not talking to him at all if they could avoid it. This suited Tony just fine. All he needed now was his headache to go away, his eyesight to come back and Gibbs to come running down the stairs and say that it had all been a big mistake and he was absolutely fine, then they could both jump on a plane to Ireland, haul the evil Mrs Doyle back to the Navy Yard and force her to drink tea until she begged for mercy. Somehow Tony doubted that this version of events would ever transpire. He shook his head and immediately regretted it, as the pain in his skull amplified. He couldn't prevent the moan that escaped his lips. Abby was there immediately.

'Tony are you ok?' The words _I'm fine_ started to automatically form on his lips, but he changed his mind. He couldn't keep this up any longer. He had to do…something.

'No,' he admitted quietly. He felt the weight on the bed shifting, as Abby moved to snuggle beside him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, gently pulling him down to rest his head on a pillow she had placed over her legs. She ran her hand up and down his arm in a gesture intended to comfort. He relaxed slightly.

'You should sleep,' she insisted.

'Hurts too much,' he answered in reply. He had already been told by Ducky that he wouldn't be allowed any painkillers until the swelling in his brain had gone. That wasn't likely to happen for some time.

'You need to heal,' she responded, 'and for that you need sleep. Here.'

Abby's hands moved to his shoulders and then his neck, gently massaging away the tension in his muscles. Finally, she began to run her fingers rhythmically through his hair, carefully avoiding his injuries. Tony was still in agony, but somehow Abby's 'treatment' allowed him to lock the pain away in a corner of his mind and focus on sleep for the first time in days. He yawned. He felt a soft kiss on his forehead as he drifted into his first real sleep since all this had begun.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N. Yes, I've finished chapter 12. Thank you for the continued feedback and for keeping me motivated. This is the last time I attempt a quick follow-up from a couple of oneshots… :D Hope you enjoy…

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Gibbs was going stir crazy. After DiNozzo had been forced to go back to his room, Abby had returned. Upon finding out he was awake, the forensic scientist had spent at least twenty minutes alternating between attempting not to cry, berating him for causing them all so much worry and hugging him and telling him how glad she was that he was alive. Had the young woman not been so distraught, Gibbs might have been tempted to laugh. As it was, he'd settled for returning the hugs and assuring the young scientist that he had survived worse. This fact hadn't seemed to provide much by way of reassurance.

'You're not superman, Gibbs,' she'd reprimanded him. 'One of these days you're going to do yourself some permanent damage.' She hadn't mentioned getting himself killed, but the implication was there.

'Not this time, Abbs,' he'd held her tightly, giving her the only assurance he could. He wouldn't lie to her – Abby needed to be prepared for the fact that one day in the future, there was a good chance that one of them might not come back. Gibbs had seen too many good men die to realistically believe that it wasn't a possibility.

After Abby had left, Ducky had appeared. The two had talked, Gibbs doing more listening than talking, and eventually the medical examiner's voice had delivered its intended soporific effect, and Gibbs had found himself dozing. Now, just a few hours later, Ducky had fallen asleep in the chair beside his bed and Gibbs was bored.

He knew it would have sounded ridiculous if he'd voiced it out loud, but there was nothing to do in the intensive care unit. He was tired of sleeping and even more tired of the constant beeping from the infernal monitoring equipment. The ubiquitous wires and tubing were hindering his every attempt to find a comfortable spot, and the lighting was so bright it was on a par with mid-day in the Afghan desert. Not ideal sleeping conditions at the best of times.

Gibbs knew he was weak, but the number of painkillers being pumped into his system meant he really wasn't feeling too bad. Besides, he _really_ needed some coffee. Maybe he could call in and speak to DiNozzo en route. He was sure he could be back before Ducky was even awake – the older man wouldn't need to know a thing. Gibbs carefully detached his IV drip from the needle in his hand and yanked off the monitoring wires covering his chest. He knew as soon as he had done so that the move was a big mistake. The heart monitor screamed in protest and two nurses rushed into the room. He had the good sense to look slightly contrite as they glared at him.

'Good lord, Jethro, what do you think you're doing?' Ducky had been startled awake by the noise, and was now looking even more irate than the two nurses, who were rapidly retreating through the doorway.

'I don't need all this stuff, Duck,' he explained, instinctively understanding that mention of coffee was more likely to get him shot than forgiven. 'I'm okay.' He smiled guiltily at the medical examiner, but the older man did not return the gesture. Instead, he was fuming.'

'Jethro, I sometimes wonder if you have the common sense you were born with. Let me explain this to you. Two days ago, you were dead. Your heart stopped. Do you understand the implications of that? For a couple of minutes, we lost you. It could very easily have become permanent. Ever since the paramedics and young Anthony somehow managed to bring you back, which was a miracle, by the way, you've been in a critical condition fighting an infection that by rights should have killed you. The average human being would be dead right now, not disconnecting the equipment that had kept him alive for the past forty-eight hours and taking his chances against nature. Do you have any idea what the past two days have done to that poor boy? He's been so worried about you that he hasn't even begun to give himself chance to heal. He won't listen to the nurses and he won't listen to me. Abigail's been having some success since you managed to persuade him that you're out of danger, but can you imagine what it would do to him if I had to go down there and tell him you've relapsed through your own stupidity? And seeing you like that, delirious with fever and so weak you couldn't lift your own head, and not knowing whether you'd even regain consciousness. Do you have any idea how much that upset Abigail? And upset me? I'm pleased that your recovery thus far has been nothing short of miraculous, but tempting fate really isn't the wisest of moves.'

Gibbs sighed. Ducky's reaction had been disproportionate to the crime of simply pulling out a few wires, but it wasn't hard to see the root cause of the diatribe. Ducky had been worried – they all had. Probably still were. Gibbs knew how much harder it was to be the one helplessly watching a friend suffer than to be the one doing the suffering. This time, though, with Gibbs unable to comfort Abby or force DiNozzo to rest, that responsibility had fallen to Ducky. It had been necessary for him to put his own feelings aside and be a pillar of strength for the team. It was a role Gibbs was used to, but the more openly emotional medical examiner would have found it far more difficult. The field agent kicked himself for not realising earlier the strain the older man was under. Before Abby had shouted at him, it had also not really occurred to him that anyone would have been that worried. Back in the marines, there had rarely even been the chance to accompany a teammate to the hospital, let alone spend days watching over them. He had to make this right, and he'd have to start with an apology.

'I'm sorry, Duck. I should have realised.' He closed his eyes. Even to his own ear he sounded terrible. Maybe the older man had a point after all. He wondered fleetingly whether he would have had the energy to stand if he'd managed to make it that far.

'Oh Jethro, what am I to do with you?' Ducky responded finally. Gibbs was relieved to note that the older man had calmed considerably.

'I really am okay, Duck.' He reassured his friend.

'By some miracle, you do genuinely appear to be on the way to recovery,' the medical examiner agreed, 'but Abigail was right when she said you really do need to be more careful.'

'I know, Duck,' Gibbs was quick to affirm.

'Oh, by the way,' the older man changed the subject, 'this arrived while you were asleep.' Gibbs looked at the item. It appeared to be some kind of carved wooden box. 'The symbols appear to be celtic,' the medical examiner was saying. 'Perhaps if we can open the catch and take a look inside…'

'Ducky, no!' Gibbs shouted. The word celtic had triggered an alarm in his head. His shout was too late – Ducky had already lifted the lid and there was an ominous click. Gibbs grabbed the box and hurled it into the steel waste paper basket at the far side of the room. In the same movement, he threw himself from the bed, pulling the medical examiner to the floor behind the room's bedside table. There was a loud explosion and the room filled with smoke. Gibbs could feel warm blood seeping from the wound in his side, but for the moment he wasn't worried about that. He had to check on his friend.

'You okay, Ducky?' he asked.

'Thanks to you, yes,' the medical examiner pulled himself to a sitting position, lifting the injured man with him. Gibbs placed a hand on the older man's shoulder, as though to subconsciously reassure himself that his friend was unharmed.

'She may be thousands of miles away,' he stated, 'but that woman is really beginning to get on my nerves. The sooner I get out of here and testify, the safer everyone will be.'


	13. Chapter 13

A/N. Thanks again for all the motivational comments. I may have lied a few chapters ago when I thought I was nearly done with this story. It seems to be getting longer. I believe a couple of people asked me to make Gibbs be _nice_ to Tony this chapter. Interesting concept. Well, here it is. Don't get used to it. I'm sure he'll be back to his usual self in no time. ;D Enjoy…

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Tony sat bolt upright, gasping for breath. Something had woken him, but he couldn't think about that now. His head was spinning, evidently a reaction to his rapid movement. Had he been awake, there was no way he would have considered sitting up so quickly. He remembered the last time he had been really drunk – it had been very much like, but far less painful than, this. The ceiling had been dancing around his eyes in much the same way the walls were now, and the resultant sensation of nausea had been just the same. The pounding headache, however, hadn't arrived until the next morning. The amplified combination of the two sets of symptoms was nearly unbearable. Even Abby appeared to be spinning. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and reached for the rail on his hospital bed to steady himself. If he wasn't careful, he was going to throw up all over Abby's favourite black t-shirt. Hang on a minute! If he had seen the walls, and Abby, his brain slowly caught up, then his eyes were working! He didn't know whether to laugh or cry – he finally had his sight back, and here he was screwing his eyes tightly shut and desperately trying not to look at anything. Even in his current state he could appreciate the irony. Had he imagined being able to see? Had his damaged brain conjured what he expected to be the truth? He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths, then cracked his eyes open again. The room, and his stomach, lurched. He groaned and closed his eyes for a second time.

'Tony, you just looked at me. You can see! Why have you closed your eyes? Are you ok?' Abby's excited but concerned voice cut through the haze.

'Dizzy,' he murmured, unable to elaborate. 'What happened?' he asked.

'Felt like an earthquake.'

'In D.C.?' There was a commotion going on outside the room, and he felt Abby leave his side for a moment. She returned within seconds.

'There's been an explosion in ICU,' she informed him in a panicked voice. 'They're evacuating the hospital as a precaution.' Tony's blood ran cold.

'Gibbs?' He knew he needn't have asked. What were the odds of somebody else in the ICU being the target of someone who had access to explosives?

'and Ducky. He's up there too.' Abby confirmed. 'Tony, what if..?' Tony raised a hand to silence her.

'Don't, Abbs,' he whispered. 'I need to get up there.'

'Don't be stupid, Tony. The elevator will have been shut off,' the forensic scientist protested. 'You can't even sit up without getting dizzy.'

'So you want me to just sit here? Abby, they could be hurt, or worse. I have to know.' After everything that had happened over the past week, there was no way Tony was going to give up on Gibbs without a fight. The man had already survived impossible odds, and it couldn't end like this. Tony wouldn't let it; though what he could actually do about it wasn't something he wanted to consider right now. He opened his eyes and forced himself to stand. 'Anyway,' he continued. 'I've seen this movie. The bad guys blow up the hospital and after it's been evacuated, they slip in and shoot the good guys. I can't let that kind of cliché happen on my watch.' Tony was sure he saw the scientist roll her eyes and smile slightly.

'Get in the wheelchair,' Abby ordered, gesturing to the contraption she had appropriated earlier. 'At least it'll be easy to get to the stairs.' He readily complied.

Abby had been right – getting to the stairs was the easy bit. Making it to the first floor was quite the opposite. Even with the scientist's help, Tony's head protested at every movement, and he had to stop to quell the nausea several times. This must be the slowest-moving, most ineffective rescue party in history, he considered. Some detached corner of his mind briefly wondered if they could make the Guinness book of world records before he forced himself to focus on the job at hand and continue his climb. After what felt like years, they made it to the next floor, and Tony stopped once again to catch his breath. Looking around, he noticed evidence of falling plaster in the hallway. Not a good sign – they were still a good twenty metres from what Abby had told him was Gibbs' room, and they could already barely see two feet in front of them. If the explosion had taken place in the room itself… Tony forced himself to stagger down the corridor, Abby supporting much of his weight, until they reached their destination.

'No.' The single word of anguish from Abby tore through Tony's heart the way nothing had for many years. Most of the room was devastated, and the far side of the bed utterly destroyed. Injuries from a blast like that would have been horrific. The chances of a healthy man surviving them were very low. For an intensive care patient, he estimated the odds would drop to close to zero. There was nothing Tony or Abby could do. There never had been.

The forensic scientist was shaking now. She buried her head in his shoulder and he could feel the hot tears soaking through his hospital gown. Tony clung tightly to her, screwing his eyes shut to quell the rising nausea. He was close to collapse, but he couldn't do that to Abby. Not now. He guided her to the wall and leaned against it, allowing it to take some of their weight, then slowly sank to the floor.

'Abigail? Anthony?' a voice sounded from immediately above them. Ducky. By some miracle he was unharmed. Abby squealed and launched herself at the older man.

'DiNozzo. You all right?' a second voice reached him from just a two feet away. This time it was at ground level. Tony spun his head to the side, immediately regretting it as his stomach began to churn dangerously. Gibbs was sitting on the floor, examining him closely. The man was bruised and bloody, but there was no doubt that he was alive. Tony reached out, afraid that his team leader was some kind of mirage.

'Boss?' Relief surged through him as his hand made contact with the older man's shoulder, but with it came an uncontrollable wave of nausea. Tony cringed, mortified. He was going to throw up in front of Gibbs. He retracted his hand and turned his head away, vomiting all over the floor. To his surprise, he felt a hand on his arm, and his head was guided onto Gibbs' undamaged right shoulder. He found himself wrapped in what appeared to be a one-armed Gibbs hug. He nearly passed out in sheer disbelief.

'You're okay Tony,' Gibbs' voice was softer than he'd ever heard it before. 'Take it easy, I've got you.' He tensed for a moment, but Gibbs' gentle tone melted the last of his resistance, and he allowed himself to relax. He closed his eyes, and began to consider that maybe Gibbs did have a soft side after all.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N. I seem to be on a roll – third chapter in 4 days. Must be all the reviews I've been getting – you guys are fantastic! Here's chapter 14 – Gibbs' POV on the last scene and a teeny bit more story. Hope you enjoy. :D

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'Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?' Gibbs opened his eyes to see a fireman who couldn't have been more than twenty years old hovering over him. Damn, he was getting old. He was feeling pretty old right now, he admitted to himself, and he didn't even remember closing his eyes. He didn't even know whether he'd fallen asleep or passed out. It had been one hell of a day, he told himself in his defence. He had woken up in ICU, and that had only been the start of his problems. Both he and Ducky had been lucky to survive when the celtic box had exploded. The heavy metal bed had sheltered them from most of the impact of the blast, and the cupboard they'd landed behind had prevented them being hit by most of the shrapnel. His body had shielded Ducky from the remainder. He was sure there were a couple of pieces of metal embedded in his leg muscles, he thought a couple of his ribs might be broken, and he had definitely torn the stitches holding his side together, but it could have been a lot worse. They had also been lucky that the explosion had destroyed enough of the doorway to allow them to crawl out over the rubble, but not enough to cause the ceiling to collapse on their heads. It could have been a hell of a lot worse. They'd made it into the corridor, but he hadn't had the strength to stand, and he wasn't about to ask Ducky to carry him. Instead, he had leaned back against the opposite wall, and Ducky had been persuaded to leave him behind and go for help. The older man had just climbed to his feet when they'd heard Abby's voice. A few moments later, she and Tony had become visible through the dust cloud as they sank to the floor just a couple of feet away.

Gibbs wouldn't have believed it possible, but DiNozzo looked even worse than he had back in the apple shed, and a hell of a lot worse than he had earlier that day. Ducky was right – whatever Tony had been up to, he hadn't been spending much time considering his own health. The fact that he had made his way here, to ICU, when everyone else had been running in the opposite direction, had told Gibbs everything he needed to know.

In fact, the look of anguish on both the kids' faces right now was heartbreaking. Damn! When had he started thinking of Tony like that? He'd always been overprotective of Abby, and sometimes of Ducky, though the medical examiner was far too old to fit in with the definition of 'kids'. DiNozzo though, he'd always been just another agent. When had that changed? It was no good, he realised. Tony was definitely one of 'his' now, though he might be more suited to the role of recalcitrant younger brother than anything else.

'Abigail? Anthony?' Ducky interrupted his contemplation. He watched as Abby jumped up and flung her arms around the medical examiner, leaving DiNozzo on the floor looking decidedly queasy and close to passing out.

'DiNozzo, you all right?' he asked. Tony's eyes snapped open and his head spun towards the sound of his voice. For a moment Gibbs saw relief in the younger man's eyes, then the junior agent swayed and moved away just in time to avoid throwing up all over his team leader. How had the kid allowed himself to get into this state? Damn, Ducky had been right again. Gibbs had really screwed this one up. DiNozzo was going to need a firm hand from now on if he going was to rest enough to recover. Not right now though. Right now the younger man looked like what he needed was someone to stop him passing out in his own vomit. Well, Gibbs could do that. He reached around DiNozzo's back and grasped the junior agent's arm firmly. He couldn't believe how much the younger man was shaking – it was a wonder he'd managed to make it to the first floor before he collapsed. The kid was an idiot for even trying. Gibbs felt a surge of affection for the younger man. He pulled him closer, until the junior agent's head was resting on his shoulder.

'You're okay Tony. Take it easy, I've got you,' he spoke softly, in a voice he usually reserved for children and frightened animals. Despite this, he felt DiNozzo tense for a moment, then relax against his side. Within a few moments, the kid was unconscious. 'You're an idiot, DiNozzo,' he had told the unhearing figure. 'I'm not worth this.'

Gibbs hadn't remembered closing his eyes too, but he guessed he must have done.

'Sir?' the fireman said, more insistently. Gibbs looked to his right. DiNozzo had neither moved nor woken up. 'Sir, we need to get you out of here.' The fireman informed him.

'See to him first,' he gestured towards to unconscious man. The fireman nodded and lifted the junior agent into his arms. As soon as they had disappeared, the fireman was replaced by another, slightly older model. Ducky was hovering beside him.

'Duck, I need your cell phone,' Gibbs insisted. The older man, knowing when to argue and when not to, handed the item over without comment. Gibbs turned to the fireman. 'Take Dr Mallard to wherever they've taken Special Agent DiNozzo, make sure he's checked over and don't let either of them out of your sight,' he ordered.

'Jethro, I'm…' Ducky began.

'That's an order,' he insisted.

'Sir, you can't…' the fireman was silenced by the famous Gibbs glare.

'Just do it.'

'Yes Sir.'

Once the two had gone, Gibbs dialled the director and gave him a situation report. It seemed to take longer than usual – he was sure he was slurring, though he didn't remember drinking any bourbon recently.

'I want two teams on the hospital around the clock,' he requested, though both he and the director knew he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. 'I want protection for Abby and Ducky whenever they're outside the hospital or the navy yard and I want DiNozzo where I can watch his back. Until I testify, they're all in danger. I need…' He stifled a groan as a particularly deep breath resulted in a stabbing pain through his side. He looked down to see more blood soaking through his hospital gown.

'Jethro..?' The director's voice had been transmitting loud and clear, but suddenly he seemed a long way away. 'Jethro, talk to me.'

'I think I'm going to pass out again,' he murmured, dropping the phone. The young fireman had returned. Gibbs felt himself being lifted, and pain flared across his body. Within moments, he too was unconscious.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N. Thank you for being so continually fantastic with the feedback, and sorry for not posting last night – couldn't get the chapter to finish itself. I think I'm nearly done now. One more chapter to go plus an epilogue, if my brain does as it's told for once. Here's the next instalment. Hope you enjoy.

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This time, at least, Tony came to slowly. The whole *passing out then waking up again* thing was getting really old really quickly and despite eating virtually nothing for days, he was still feeling really queasy. It was bearable, he decided, if he didn't move; or open his eyes. He resolved to do neither. Instead he lay still, taking slow, even breaths and tried to remember what exactly he had been doing when he'd passed out _this_ time. As his brain gradually reconnected with his body, he became aware that he was not alone. Somebody was rhythmically running a hand up and down his back. Felt nice. He racked his brain, desperately trying to remember what had happened. A few moments later, images began to flash through his mind and the memories came flooding back. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the floor outside ICU. He and Abby had both thought that Gibbs and Ducky were dead. He remembered the overwhelming feeling of relief on discovering that both men were very much alive, and the few moments of terror when he'd thought that he was going to throw up all over Gibbs. The strange thing was, Gibbs hadn't seemed to mind at all. In fact, Gibbs had spoken to him in a very un-Gibbs-like way. He hadn't sounded worried exactly, but he had been _nice_. Maybe Gibbs had hit his head on something during the explosion? That would certainly have explained the personality change. DiNozzo could swear he could recall Gibbs hugging him, but Gibbs wouldn't do that, would he? No, he distinctly remembered it. Gibbs had definitely had an arm around him when he had passed out on the older man's shoulder, and now somebody was rubbing his back. No. That didn't bear thinking about. A hug in a moment of crisis was one thing, but if Gibbs was rubbing his back, that would mean he really had been replaced by some kind of creepy alien simulant. Maybe, Tony decided, if he stayed still long enough, Gibbs would go away, and neither of them would ever have to suffer the embarrassment of acknowledging any of this.

'Tony, I know you're awake. I can see you thinking.' The hand moved to rest on his cheek. Abby. Tony laughed out loud with relief.

'What?' The forensic scientist demanded.

'Nothin, Abbs,' he murmured. There was no way he was going to tell anyone what he had been thinking. Ever. 'Everyone okay?' he asked.

'Ducky's fine,' she informed him, 'nothing but a few bruises. They've patched Gibbs up again. He tore some of his stitches and broke a couple of ribs, and would you believe he got two mattress springs stuck in his leg from the explosion? They had to cut them out. Totally gross, huh? He's in post-op recovery.'

'He'll be okay though, right?'

'I think so. Ducky's with him. Once he starts to come round, they'll bring him back here and we can check on him for ourselves. Speak of the devil…' she finished as Ducky walked through the door, followed by an orderly pushing Gibbs' bed, which he positioned at the far corner of the room before exiting the way he had come.

'You called?' Ducky smiled, catching the tail-end of the conversation.

'How is he, Ducky?' Tony asked, forcing himself to open his eyes and pull himself to a sitting position.

'He's fine,' a voice growled from the corner.

'And awake,' Tony concluded. Gibbs snorted.

'Well deduced, Sherlock.'

'…with his charming personality completely restored,' Tony added. Before Gibbs could respond, Ducky chose to intervene.

'Gentlemen, please. You both need to rest. That's an order,' he looked at them sternly. Ducky had quite a glare of his own when he wanted to, Tony thought, added to which, he was right as usual.

'You too, Duck,' Gibbs added.

'I'm fine, Jethro.'

'You've been here, what? Three days? You've been awake almost constantly for seventy-two hours, not to mention blown up. You and Abby need to go home and get some sleep. DiNozzo and I will be fine here without you. That's an order too,' he added. Ducky sighed.

'Very well, Jethro. Abigail and I will be back tomorrow,' the medical examiner conceded. 'Do try not to kill each other in the meantime.'

Tony watched as the two departed then turned his attention to his new roommate. Gibbs, in turn, was scrutinising him closely. The attention made him feel….nervous.

'So, finally alone, huh?' he attempted to distract the older man from his examination. Gibbs snorted again.

'Go to sleep, DiNozzo.'

'Aw, c'mon boss, I just woke up,' Tony complained loudly. 'Maybe we could get hold of some cards and…' he paused as he was subjected to a slightly unfocused Gibbs glare. '…or maybe not,' he finished. He lay silently for a few minutes, observing the senior agent. The older man looked…uncomfortable. Tony guessed that with damage to both his legs, his ribs, his shoulder and his side, Gibbs was going to have problems finding any comfortable position in the immediate future. Tony continued to watch as his team leader inadvertently put pressure on his injured ribs. The older man's face screwed up with pain.

'Are you all right, boss?' he echoed the words Gibbs had used just a few hours ago. Tony pulled back his covers, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He paused for a moment to allow his brain to catch up with the movement. 'I could go get a nurse or something?'

'Set one foot on the ground, DiNozzo, and I swear I'll come over there and cuff your ankles to the bedrails,' Gibbs growled. Tony wasn't absolutely certain he wasn't bluffing. 'Ducky told you to rest. It's about time you started listening.'

Tony sighed. He guessed Gibbs was through being nice. He knew the older man had his best interests at heart, but Gibbs' whole _'Do as I say, not as I do,'_ approach to injury could be damned frustrating. He pulled his feet back onto the bed, lay down and closed his eyes.

'Guess we're going to be stuck here together for a while, huh?' he asked after a few moments.

'Oh, I wouldn't be too sure about that,' a familiar voice responded. Tony's eyes shot open. Mary O'Connell was standing in the doorway, a silenced sig in her hand. Tony groaned.

'Not again,' he complained, glaring at the new arrival. 'This really isn't my week.'


	16. Chapter 16

A/N. Guess this is my last chance to thank you all for all the fantastic support while I've been writing this story. This is the final chapter, in which we find out whether Mary O'Connell really will kill Gibbs and Tony and get away scot free ;-D. The epilogue is really short, so I'm posting it at the same time as this last chapter. I hope you all enjoyed the ride. I know I did. Now I have to go away and get on with all those things I've been neglecting to write this. Please let me know if you've enjoyed it. Hugs from Gibbs and Abby for all of you. x

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'How did you get past the guards?' Tony was asking as Gibbs began to assess the situation. Gibbs knew what the younger man was doing – attempting to provide a distraction to allow Gibbs to act, but the senior agent knew that unless Mary O'Connell got much closer, there was nothing he could do. Damn. He had been planning to ask the director to issue the two of them with new weapons, but he had passed out before he had the chance. Talk about bad timing, again.

'It's amazing how many people hesitate before shooting a little old woman with a walking stick,' Mary O'Connell was telling him. Gibbs looked towards the door. Sure enough, a walking stick was now resting against the doorframe. Mary O'Connell stepped further into the room.

'So you just shot them?' Tony was asking.

'Well you know what they say,' she replied. 'If you want a job doing properly…' she tailed off.

Gibbs saw DiNozzo shoot him a questioning glance, and shook his head almost imperceptibly. Neither of them were in any kind of position to do anything. Even under normal circumstances, there would have been enough time for the elderly woman to shoot at least one of them before they reached her. With DiNozzo suffering from a concussion and Gibbs still under the effects of the anaesthetic that had been used during surgery, both of them would be dead before they could do anything. The only thing they could do was keep the woman talking and hope she closed the distance between them.

'Let the kid go, Mary,' Gibbs knew there was no chance that Mrs O'Connell would do so, but he owed it to DiNozzo to try. 'Without me, the case against Kevin will go away, but you don't need DiNozzo.'

'I kill both of you, and there are no witnesses against my men and no witnesses against me. Do I look stupid to you, special agent Gibbs?'

'No,' he was forced to admit. He knew now that there was nothing he could do or say to avoid their fate. Mary O'Connell was far too intelligent to give away her obvious advantage. He and DiNozzo were both going to die, and it would be all Gibbs' fault. The only thing he could do now was make sure the younger agent knew what a fantastic job he'd done, then accept his inevitable death. The second part wasn't hard – Gibbs had never been in any hurry to die, but the prospect had failed to hold any fear for him for many years, ever since he had lost Shannon and Kelly. He began to ignore Mary O'Connell and focused on the young man who he had come to regard as a friend.

'Tony?'

'Yeah, boss?'

'I, uh…' He what? He thought to himself. He was sorry? That was true, but at a time like this, sorry just didn't cut it. He was proud of the younger man? Also true, but again not the most helpful thing to say. He wished there was something he could do to get them out of this? Definitely, but that wasn't going to help matters either. Why was he so bad at this? Gibbs had always been better at expressing himself without words. He attempted to do so now, locking eyes with his junior agent. There was fear in the younger man's eyes, but none on his face, and Tony met his gaze with equal intensity.

'I know, boss,' he said after a while. Gibbs relaxed. Somewhere along the way, the kid had learned to read him, and right now he was incredibly grateful for that.

'Oh, please.' Mary O'Connell was sneering now. She lifted the gun and pointed it at the middle of Gibbs' forehead. He met her gaze calmly. He dropped his eyes to the barrel of the gun. 'Not going to beg for your life?' she asked, surprised.

'Nope,' he responded.

'Would you beg for his life?' she asked, gesturing towards DiNozzo.

'If I thought it would make a difference,' Gibbs answered honestly, but they both knew that nothing he could do or say would dissuade Mary O'Connell from killing the younger man. At least, though Gibbs felt ashamed for thinking it, if she killed him first, he wouldn't have to watch DiNozzo die.

'Goodbye, Special Agent Gibbs,' Mary O'Connell's hand tightened on the trigger. Gibbs kept his eyes upon her, and forced himself to remain calm.

'It's been a pleasure, Tony.'

'Likewise, Gibbs. Shame we can't stick around. Might have been interesting.' Gibbs allowed the corner of his lips to lift into a smile. He once again felt incredibly proud of the younger man. They had been quite a team.

'No regrets.' Well, Gibbs could think of a few, but now wasn't the time to voice them.

'I'll regret dying.' Gibbs smiled again. He was sure that was some kind of movie reference he just couldn't put his finger on – leave it to Tony to find humour even in a situation like this. The smile remained on his face as he awaited his death. He knew that by remaining in control, he was robbing his executioner of what little power she had over him, and he hoped DiNozzo would do the same once he was gone.

The shot never came. Focused as he had been on the elderly woman, he had failed to notice Abby return. The forensic scientist, understanding the situation, had picked up the walking stick and brought it down hard on the old woman's arms. The gun had clattered to the floor and Abby had followed up with a punch to the jaw. Mary O'Connell fell to the floor.

'Nobody does that to my boys,' she'd informed the elderly woman fiercely. She had retrieved the weapon before she had even noticed the incredulous stares coming from the two injured men. 'I forgot my purse,' she stated, as though that explained everything. 'Tony, pass it to me, there are handcuffs in there somewhere.'

Gibbs watched, bemused, as the scientist pulled the elderly woman's arms behind her back and applied the fluffy purple handcuffs. He decided he wasn't going to ask. Instead, he held out his hand for the gun. Abby handed it to him, and he pulled her into a hug.

'Thanks, Abbs.' She was squeezing him tightly, causing agonising pain to shoot through his chest, but now wasn't the time to mention it.

'Fine without us, huh?' she mocked lightly. She looked a little shaken, but was doing her best to hide it. 'I'm never leaving you two alone again.' Gibbs smiled. Abby certainly had a point.

'We owe you one, Abbs,' he acknowledged.

'You can pay me back by getting some rest,' she ordered. 'Both of you.' She looked sternly in Tony's direction. 'I'll take care of this.'

Gibbs was still grinning as he closed his eyes. The four of them really were one hell of a team, and thanks to Abby, they were now going to live long enough to find out exactly how interesting their future would turn out to be.


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Tony was standing at the bottom of the steps when Gibbs emerged from the courthouse. He had been back in the office for almost a week now, but it had been incredibly quiet and dull without Gibbs. The older man still had another week of sick leave before the director would permit him to return to light duties, but that hadn't stopped him from contacting the prosecutor in the Kevin O'Connell case and insisting he was fit to testify. Gibbs had spent two days being cross-examined and was looking decidedly haggard as he limped down the steps, using his right hand to grasp the handrail firmly. His left arm was still immobilised. Tony walked up to meet him.

'You been standing there all day, DiNozzo?' Gibbs asked. Tony grinned. Gibbs had no way of knowing that he had recently been on a few dates with the prosecutor's assistant, nor that he had asked her to contact him once they had finished with the senior agent's testimony.

'Something like that,' he answered. 'Thought you might need a ride.' Gibbs nodded his head in thanks and climbed into the car. 'I heard you nailed him in there,' Tony began, conversationally. Gibbs looked at him suspiciously and raised an eyebrow, but chose not to comment.

'If he doesn't go down, we'll know the judge is dirty. The case is absolutely water-tight.'

'Good,' Tony decided. 'With Mary O'Connell and her goons behind bars, I guess Kevin's going to be finding it difficult to get away with anything for a while. So, where to?'

'Home, DiNozzo,' Gibbs replied tiredly, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. 'I'm glad that's over,' he admitted. Tony examined him out of the corner of his eye as they pulled up at a set of lights. The older man still looked exhausted. Maybe now his testimony was out of the way, Gibbs would allow himself the sleep he sorely needed.

They finished the rest of the journey in silence, Tony not entirely sure whether Gibbs had fallen asleep. Finally, they pulled up outside the older man's house.

'Need a hand with anything before I head back to work?' DiNozzo asked as Gibbs climbed slowly out of the car.

'I'm good, thanks Tony,' the older man replied, though he looked anything but. Tony wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words.

'I guess I'll just…' he responded, gesturing towards the road. Gibbs' next words were entirely unexpected.

'You like steak, DiNozzo?'

'Does Abby like Caf-Pow?' A smile spread across the older man's face.

'Come round at seven. Bring beer.' Tony nodded in acknowledgement. Gibbs closed the door and began to walk carefully towards the house. Tony watched until he reached the front door. He wound down the passenger side window.

'Hey boss,' he called out. Gibbs turned, raising a questioning eyebrow. Tony's face broke into a wide smile. 'I love it when a plan comes together.'

Gibbs was still shaking his head as Tony pulled away from the kerb, laughing. As he drove back to work, Gibbs remained in the forefront of Tony's thoughts. He would go round tonight, and they'd have a good dinner and a few beers. Maybe they'd talk, and maybe they wouldn't, but Tony knew one thing. This friendship had…possibilities.

**THE END**

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And so the friendship begins. That's all folks. As I said at the beginning of the last chapter, please let me know if you enjoyed.

Hugs,

BecTheLabRat x


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